


A Practical Guide to Suicide

by The Fink (orphan_account)



Category: Green Day
Genre: Drabble Collection, Gen, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-12-10
Updated: 2005-12-09
Packaged: 2017-10-16 02:50:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/167626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/The%20Fink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Guns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Billie Joe was mugged at gunpoint once.

The firearm should be aimed so that the projectile enters the brain, causing instant unconsciousness.  
Unconsciousness is instantaneous if the projectile destroys most of the brain.  
It is aesthetically unpleasant.

 

It’s staring at me, inky black eye focusing. My skin crawls just being this close to it. It’s watching me, daring me to come closer.

I don’t even remember buying the gun.

I run a hand over it, my fingers feel like they’re burning. The bubbling of a panic attack is stewing in the pit of my stomach but I swallow hard, stilling it. I can do this. I’m no coward.

I grasp the grip firmly, raising the barrel to my head, feeling its eye boring into my brain through my ear, memorizing my secrets before I pull the trigger.


	2. Impact

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mike dreamed of flying.

At 150 meters there might not be much of a difference.  
Although your body will be washed clean of blood your head and trunk might be ruptured, requiring your body to be taken out of the water in pieces.

 

It’s cold up here with the wind whipping around me. I nearly fell off three times trying to get up this high. Now I’m staring down into the bay, it’s dark surface reflecting my thoughts back at me, blank. I wonder if it’ll be like flying.

I always loved flying.

I take a deep breath, one hand over my racing heart, steadying myself. This will be so easy. No mess, no fuss, just weightlessness then impact, followed by endless drifting.

My fingers have gone numb where they grip the cold metal of the bridge. I flex them before pushing off.


	3. Cyanide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tré was the life of any party.

Once the concoction is drunk, consciousness will be lost within a minute.  
While in the coma, death will follow in fifteen to forty-five minutes, depending on the physical strength of the person and whether the stomach is full or empty.  
During the coma period, the dying person will breathe heavily or snore.

 

It’s a strange sensation, being all alone. I quietly stir the cocktail, the clinking of metal on glass the only sound in my house. Funny how the silence is the only unsettling thing, not what I’m holding in my hands.

It’s easy getting chemicals when you’re famous.

I sit on my couch, staring into my fireplace. Letting the concoction reach it’s full potency. My finger’s leave murky trails through the condensation. This will be just like any other liquor I've had.

I’ll do things the safe way, for once, and throw the cup into the fireplace after I’ve downed it.

**Author's Note:**

> Quotes from a publication of the same name.


End file.
